


Some Assembley Required

by koppywriting



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: I have no shame, M/M, it's all a misunderstanding officer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koppywriting/pseuds/koppywriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve overhears some suspect noises coming from behind Clint's closed door. Normally he wouldn't think to interject, but Tony sounds a little uncomfortable...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Assembley Required

**Author's Note:**

> Just shoot me now. This is crack and I apologize, except not really. There must be so many Avengers fics with this title, but I just kept coming back to it. I hope you enjoy it. (and I definitely don't own the Avengers).

This is what he got, Steve supposed, for trying to mind his own business.

A moment ago he had been ambling down the halls in Stark Tower, heading for a midafternoon snack in the kitchen when he overheard a peculiar string of expletives and grunts coming from behind Clint’s closed and locked door. He hesitated as he approached it, embarrassed even to be passing within the radius of the door. If Tony had been with him at the moment, he would have undoubtedly made some inane comment about how adorably awkward Steve could be. Just the thought of his lover’s scorn, even spoken in jest, made Steve flinch and resume walking forward.

Unfortunately, walking forward brought him into full earshot of the door and the goings-on behind it.

“Dammit Clint, I’m telling you it can’t be done,” Tony Stark’s voice echoed out to him, stopping Steve in his tracks. It sounded like they could use a hand in there. And maybe Tony would come to the kitchen with him afterward.

Any motion Steve had considered making towards the door died at the outset when he heard Hawkeye respond.

“It’ll work just fine if you would just lift your hips a little,” the archer snapped, panting.

“My hips are as far off the ground as they are physically going to get,” Tony returned, also sounding sorely exerted.

“Fine, hold still then, this could get a little tight.”

“Don’t do it like that!” Tony yelped, “You won’t fit. Here. Let me show you.”

“Maybe you should just spread your legs a little farther apart.”

Steve realized that his fingernails were digging raw crescents into his palm. He forcibly relaxed his hands and told himself that whatever was going on in Clint’s room was between him and Tony. He told himself, in a calm, reasonable tone that Tony was an adult and deserved his trust. They were both adults for that matter, and he didn’t see Tony flying into a jealous rage every time he helped Natasha with shelving or assisted Bruce with an experiment. 

Then the dialogue resumed and all rational thought fled his mind.

“Stop that,” Tony cried, “you’re going to break my leg!”

“It’s not my fault you keep shifting around. Just hold still and let me slip through.”

And that, Cap decided, was just enough of that.

He strode forward, shouldered the door open and cast a wild look around the room. “What on earth are you-“

“-Doing?” Hawkeye offered lamely from his contorted position underneath his bed, which Tony was currently supporting. The billionaire was flat on his back, directly underneath the bed, lifting one end of it with his legs. Clint had wound his way in between them to reach the movable blocks elevating his bed off the ground. He was currently occupied adjusting the height to accommodate another foot or so of storage.

Cap could only stare.

“Who is it?” Tony asked with some difficulty, Cap shielded from his view.

“You don’t really want me to answer that,” Hawkeye responded, slithering out from his current position to face Cap with a slightly hangdog expression.

“Fuck me,” was all Tony said in response.

“You could have asked me for help,” Cap said, mystified.

“I know,” Clint began, “but Tony was right there and – all we needed to do was- it wasn’t supposed to be this hard,” he finished with some difficulty.

“I appreciate you two talking this out like grown ups,” Tony gasped, “but my legs are starting to give out over here.”

Cap crossed the room in two long strides and lifted the bed without preamble. Tony rolled out past his legs and lay, panting on the floor.

“As long as I’ve got this,” Steve called over his shoulder to Clint, “Care to finish?”

Clint wasted no time complying and five minutes later, Tony and Cap were out to door and meandering down the hallway shoulder to shoulder.

“So,” Tony began awkwardly in the silence, “I suppose at least one of us has some explaining to do?”

“Maybe,” Steve responded, “but at the moment all I want is some of last night’s cold pizza. We can save explanations for the poets.”

“I knew there was some reason I loved you.”


End file.
